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November 05, 2011

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I'm EXTREMELY hung over from a Halloween party last night/this
morning and I must vent a little. Since I feel like any light much
stronger than a lit match will most likely cause a severe cerebral
hemorrhage I will stay indoors, in a dark room, and do my venting here.

First off, I am thoroughly convinced that Tequila is a liquid shot out
of the Devil's asshole. It was created by God as punishment for a
decision people make about 2 AM-- to drink it in little shot glasses--
when beer and mixed drinks are not providing a quick enough passage to
the "I'm so drunk I'm cross eyed, hiccuping, peeing into someones boot"
time of night. I'm not kidding about the peeing in boot thing, that is
one of the things I do remember doing at around 4 in the morning. I
remember because the tequila based logic that came with it. This thought
was "Well, I don't want to be a scumbag and just piss on the carpet". I
know it was 4 in the morning because I remember wobbling and staring at
the alarm clock on the nightstand next to an open door of an EMPTY
BATHROOM!!! What's worse than that is that while looking over there it
never once occurred to me to stop peeing. The only thought that went
through my head was "cool, at least I know where to go when I vomit
about 2 seconds ago" This is the type of thinking tequila elicits.

I know Tequila is punishment from God, because I can still taste it. It
has special Ungodly powers to cling to your tongue(like a baby monkey on
its mom) for days after it has been drunk, causing a revolting vomitous
backlash every time you swallow. I am dry heaving right now as I type.

Like the peeing in boot, the 2am Tequila decision is followed by an ever
escalating amount of worse decisions. I will only tell you one
other(that's all I remember anyway). That decision came at around 5am.
Just imagine how bad it must have been since this was a full hour after
my peeing decision.

This next decision was to start hitting on a girl in a Sponge Bob
costume. As I slurred things at her, I remember thinking "Um, why does
her breath smell like dead fish ? Oh I get it, it must be part of the
costume." Yep, Tequila solves every mystery with unyielding logic. Not
that it would have mattered, knowing me, a little halitosis is a pebble
compared to the boulder sized maladies I've overlooked in women, while
drinking Tequila.

My first clue that I was making a mistake should have been when my drunk
friend pulled me up and asked if I was seriously hitting on that girl.
To understand why that is relevant, I should point out that my buddy
would sleep with Jabba the Hut's sister if she had fake boobs. So for
him to say this, it must really mean something bad. Of course, I am
writing this now and not thinking that many hours ago. So my only
thought was, "Fuck you, I know your little game, as soon as I leave
you'll swoop in and start hitting on her, man, now I'm glad I pissed in
your boot". Now I don't know what happened after that, but I'm pretty
sure I had sex. I know this because my ass hurts. I'm not saying I had
sex with another man. I just know Tequila decisions get really kinky,
and almost always painful. As it turns out the girl I thought was
dressed as Sponge Bob wasn't wearing a costume. She was just wearing a
XXXX large yellow Moo Moo that hid most of her enormous square sponge
like body. Oh well, that's life.